Dynasty
by prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: For weeks the South would grumble at the injustice, and yet the King ignored them all in taking a Stark for his bride. She trades her cloak of grey and white, for one of red and black, as a Targaryen dynasty is once again forged.


**authorsnote:** so, a little oneshot was way overdue I felt. don't get me wrong I love updating my longer stories, but sometimes it's nice to just write a little project and see it come to fruition so easily. I do love this pairing, and I hope you enjoy both the content and style of this little story, since it's different to my usual way. please let me know what you think, I love hearing people's thoughts on my work! and please fav if you enjoyed.

 **songrecommendations:** stand by me - ben-e king / flightless bird, american mouth - iron and wine (wedding edition)

* * *

when the night has come,

and the land is dark,

and the moon is the only light we'll see,

no I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid,

just as long as you stand by me, stand by me

...

* * *

It was not the Targaryen they had heard rumours of, nor the Targaryen they expected to come to Westeros, but when he rode overheard on his great white dragon, the other two beasts following in his wake, when he landed and they saw his dazzling purple eyes, his white hair, the legendary Blackfyre at his hip, and his expression one of both cool arrogance and a fiery intensity, they all knew, _they all knew who he was._

One by one the Kingdom's fell to his rule, with near none offering resistance. Dorne bowed to their returned family member, delight on the face of the Martell's. The Westerland's bowed to the return of their rightful Lord in Tyrion, and bent the knee to the man who'd returned him. The Vale bowed as he flew his dragons to the Eeyrie, reminiscent of Visenya in the initial conquest. The Reach bowed to a simple promise, as the Tyrell's just barely kept their grip on Highgarden. The Stormland's, so broken, had been the first to bow, for some stability and peace. The Riverlands had been unable to offer resistance, and couldn't have, with the Tully's rightfully back in Riverrun under his order. The Iron Island's had refused of course, _'We do not sow'_ , as was their way, and yet it had been to their detriment; the dragon's had rained fire down on the seafaring folk, similar to the melting of Harrenhall centuries earlier. The Greyjoy's had been stripped of their power, and the Iron Island's put on close watch. 6 Kingdom's had fallen within the space of a year, and only one remained.

Finally, he had come to the North, the harshest of the Kingdom's, not easily tamed. He had done so though, by freeing the proud Northmen of the tyrannical grip of the Bolton's, defeating the threat North of the Wall, naming Jon Snow (now Stark), the last of the male Stark's, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, and then finally taking a Stark as his Bride.

For weeks, the South would grumble at such injustice, that their new King had given so much to the Stark's, and yet they were only jealous, seething with a green envy. Arianna Martell had hoped to be wed to a King, as had Margaery Tyrell, and so many other silly Southern girls. Girls from the Riverlands and Westerlands had flocked to court in hopes they'd be Queen to a Targaryen King, and yet all had been turned down, all refused.

It was only the Stark girl, the one who didn't _want_ to be Queen, who would be his bride.

No one knew why the King picked the Stark girl to be his bride, only that after weeks spent in Winterfell, there was a betrothal declared. Some wondered if it were her honour, or perhaps her beauty, but no one knew for sure. No one why the King entered Winterfell alone, but left with the Stark girl by his side, promised to be his bride, promised to be the Queen, and the two rarely seen out of sight of each other since.

Months passed before they were married, and that raised more eyebrows. The King needed an Heir! The Mother of Dragon's was barren, and he was the _last_ Targaryen, he needed to affirm his rule, to forge his dynasty, the entire Kingdom was crying out for stability. And yet even as his advisors pushed for a quick wedding he refused them, even his hand Lord Tyrion, who's counsel he usually followed, was ignored, instead he lingered for a month in Winterfell before returning South, with the Stark girl by his side, then months more passed as they spent time together in King's Landing, rarely seen apart, and yet never seen to be physical or affectionate, before they were finally wed.

It near caused outrage as the King revealed at the ceremony of the Seven, that they were already married, had been under the Old God's at Winterfell with only fellow Starks, and the Mother of Dragon's to witness. Still, the gossipers hushed as they were married in the Great Sept (and the Mother of Dragon's shot her terrifying glare at those who whispered), as the Stark girl's grey and white cloak was replaced by one of red and black, as they were both crowned, he in the crown of his ancestor of Aegon the Conquerer, she in the crown of his Grandmother, Rhaella Targaryen. The gossip died down as the two left the Sept together, smiling calmly, hands intertwined, and yet composed as they spoke to the smallfolk on the streets before going to the feast, a feast that was far too subdued for the Southerner's, and yet was too much for the few Northerner's able to attend.

Still, the Royal couple were married, and bedded, but again people gossiped as the bedding ceremony was dispensed of, and instead the two parted their own wedding early, hand in hand, quietly talking to one another, and yet seemingly composed.

Thankfully, the swell of the Queen's belly months later put to bed the rumours that the Stark Queen remained a maid. Finally, the Kingdom had more happiness, and happiness it was. The Red Keep was overflowing with gifts, and the court was as large as it ever had been as the Queen reached the final stages of pregnancy. The smallfolk screamed themselves hoarse as news came that the Queen was in labour, and the Kingdom collectively held their breath, waiting for news of the next King or Queen of Westeros.

The babe was a beauty, presented to the courts the next day. Blonde of hair, with Targaryen purple eyes, he only represented the Stark Queen in the nose and mouth, otherwise he was a Targaryen through and through in his looks (though years later he'd be shown to be Targaryen in his personality as well, whilst holding onto the infamous Stark sense of honour). And yet the Stark Queen didn't seem to mind, happy to bring a baby boy; Daeron Targaryen into the world. The Kingdom had an Heir, some stability, everyone could be calm, everyone could be happy.

The Targaryen dynasty was restored.

And it would only be strengthened further over the next two years, with the arrival of a second son; Jaehery's Targaryen, another Targaryen copy, a spare for the Heir (yet so different to his brother, not arrogant or confident, but quiet and brooding, and yet exceedingly clever in a way few were). Everything was secure. The arrival of a girl next, with purple eyes and Tully red hair, named Arya, caused some upturned noses, and yet none fussed that a girl was named for the North, no; that was just about accepted, especially as the Lords clamoured for betrothal's for their sons to a Princess.

The next child truly affirmed their rule; another boy, and yet that name caused even more upturned noses and malicious gossip. A boy, this time he was all Tully; bright blue eyes, red/bronze hair. His name too, reflected the Queen; Eddard Targaryen. Many were annoyed, and yet none dared protest, not as the boy was presented to the world, and both the King, and Mother of Dragon's, dared anyone to comment on his name.

After all, it had become a little known fact that the King, so beloved by his people, had come to love his Queen, and would protect both her honour and decisions fiercely.

It had taken a while for people to realise, to realise that the cool composure between the two was actually a fire simmering beneath them both. To realise that the gentle touches and the hand holding concealed a passion between the two, to realise that the two were often caught gazing at one another, that the Queen proudly wore the King's colours, even when showing her Stark heritage, to understand just how much the King loved the Queen, few needed look further than the way he looked at her, and the way he looked at the children he had given her with a Fatherly love that many could understand.

The Queen proved to be an adept Mother, shunning the Southern tradition of wet nurses, and various tutors, instead taking her children under her own wing (with a large hand from the Mother of Dragon's, who insisted as their Aunt she was to help raise them, and the Queen happily agreed). She also shunned early betrothals, and promises, instead she tried to give them some flexibility. The King often relinquished his power in these matters to the Queen, he scoffed at the rumours he was weak for doing so, and suggested those who called him weak remembered just how he had won the Kingdom's.

That certainly quieted the gossipers as they remembered the threats of Dragon fire, and how the Iron Island's had smouldered for _days_ after the Greyjoys met their end.

None could deny, the success the King and Queen had, had. They had forged a new dynasty, bought peace to the Kingdom's. In fact, every Kingdom was thriving. Jon Stark was married to a Karstark girl, his own brood of Stark's now running around Winterfell, unfortunately little Robin had passed on, but Ser Harrold Hardying (now Arryn), was ruling the Vale finely, married to the Royce girl. The Westerland's were more wealthy than ever under Lord Tyrion, who had eventually married after years of pressure to Margaery Tyrell, an odd pairing but one suggested by the Queen, and had proved fruitful, with three Lannister children, all healthy and happy now birthed to carry on the Lannister name (and a happy marriage for Tyrion and Margaery it seemed, as many saw a side to the former Queen they had never seen before when she was around the Lord Hand; one of sincerity and pure devotion to her husband). The Reach was blossoming under Willas Tyrell's rule, his marriage to Desmera Redwyne, shushing those who disliked the Tyrell's. The Iron Islands remained quiet, and the Riverlands rebuilt under Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey, we're thriving too. Dorne continued to quietly forge forward, Arianna Martel proving a worthy successor to her Father. The Stormlands had even managed to recover, under Gendry Baratheon, found and legitimised, and married to the child Shireen, the two continuing the near extinct Baratheon name.

Everywhere was doing well, and the credit went to the Targaryen King and Queen, keeping peace across the continent, staving off attempted invasions from pirates, the White Walker's making one last resurgence against the Night's Watch and the current Lord Commander; Ser Jaime, all were defeated, and the Kingdom continued to prosper.

Years passed, and the King and Queen continued to oversee such success.

And when they grew old, and tired, and realised their time for this world was not long, they both knew they'd be leaving the Kingdom in the capable hands of their Son; Daeron, married to Jon Snow's only daughter, Lyanna. Their second Son, Jaehery's ruled Dragonstone, married to a Driftmark, and Eddard, Eddard had rebuilt Summerhall, and had married a flowery Southern Hightower girl, much to the amusement of his parents. Arya, Arya had been all the Lady of her Mother, with the arrogance and fierceness of her Father, a deadly combination. She had however found love in Gerion Lannister, the Heir to the Westerlands. Their children's fate had been secured, and so as their minds grew duller, and their bodies weaker, the Targaryen King and Queen knew they were leaving the world in a good place.

They were ready to go, the Mother of Dragon's having passed years earlier, and their loved one's falling before they did. After the last of their generation of leader's; Jon Stark, died quietly in Winterfell, only two weeks after his wife had passed, did they both realise their time had come, but they didn't hide or shy from the darkness, instead the King and Queen happily passed on _together,_ found the next morning by the maid, in bed, clutching one another, even smiling, but gone from the world.

And then, in the heaven of the Old God's, the one revealed as the truth, Aegon Targaryen and Sansa Stark looked down at the world they'd made, the world they had left in a better place than they had found it, and the world they had loved almost as fiercely as they loved one another, they hand smiled, and turned hand in hand to meet those they had been waiting for so long to see, content with the world they had left behind, _truly_.

* * *

so thoughts? hopefully you see this the way I do - a nice little oneshot, to take a break from my longer stories - all of which have updates coming! most likely 'the dragon's queen', will be next, followed by 'the ink is dry', 'turning back' and 'journey'. also I'm still editing through 'a wolf among thorns', and will update as soon as thats done (I've already written the chapter).

so, please review and let me know what you think (also tell me if you like this pairing? I ship them, and would love to write more of them!), if you do like this pairing I would especially suggest you check out my other fic 'the dragon's queen' as that is also sansa/aegon centric.

anyways, please review, and fav, check out my other fics, and I hope you enjoyed!

see you soon!


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